


Childlike

by Gameofscones



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Future Fic, Gendrya - Freeform, Oneshot, Prompt: Childlike, postcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gameofscones/pseuds/Gameofscones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Arya, of House Stark of Winterfell. He would never see her that way, to him, she would always be Arry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Childlike

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Childlike.
> 
> Comment, tell me what you think! Any feedback is appreciated~

Arya’s figure had changed since Gendry had seen her last. She was older now, a woman, he thought. His eyes glanced over her slowly; she wore a deep green gown, embroidered with flowers snaking up her sides. It came below her feet, and it dragged on the ground slightly when she walked. Her hair was still a dark shade of chestnut brown, but it was longer, and pulled back into a braid. A smiled played on Gendry’s lips as he watched Arya enter the dining hall; she had invited him to Winterfell for a reunion when she heard that he was alive. She sent a search party as far as she could, and eventually they found him in a Free City, working as a smith. Delight washed over Arya when she heard the news, it had been years since Gendry had been present in her life, but her affection for him never faltered.

  
She walked down the stairwell, and into the dining hall, a smile spread widely on her face. She spotted Gendry, who stood respectfully as she entered. He bowed his head slightly, and a laugh threatened to escape from Arya’s throat.  
“Gendry, stand up straight! It’s just me.”

“Lady Stark, it’s so good to see you,” he responded, looking up at the young woman.

“Oh, stop with the ‘Lady Stark’! _Arya_ ,” she insisted, “call me Arya.”

She made her way towards the tall man, her hands trembling. She had been waiting for this moment for years, and it was finally here. Gendry was cleaner now, a light sprinkling of stubble washed over his face. His hair was short and dark, and he had small crows-feet at the edges of his eyes.

  
Arya greeted him with a tight hug, and he wrapped his arms around her small frame. They pulled away from each other, both smiling, before taking a seat at one of the tables.

  
The room was crowded with people, and the room was flooded with drunken chatter. Arya and Gendry finished their meals and sipped on sweet summerwine, reminiscing about the past. Before long, people started to leave. Night had fallen, and so had her eyelids. They were heavy, and she placed a hand on Gendry’s arm, telling him that she was going to sleep. He asked her where to go, and she was hit with the realization that she had neglected to set up sleeping quarters for the lad. She invited him to her room. At first he declined, but she insisted stubbornly.

  
The room was large, and their voices bounced off of the walls. She walked over to her mirror, turning away from Gendry, before slipping her gown off of her shoulders, and pulling her legs out. Gendry’s eyes couldn’t help but gaze at the young womans nude body. The light played off of her skin, and she slipped on a nightgown. Turning around, she saw Gendry quickly avert his attention. She smirked.

  
“A problem seems to have risen, see, I only have one bed,” Arya said playfully, suggesting they sleep together. Gendry’s cheeks flushed red, and he walked over to the big, soft featherbed. He threw the covers over, and sat down. She joined him soon after.

  
An awkward silence had formed between the two. Arya could feel Gendry’s discomfort and without another word she stood up, and faced him.

  
“What’s the matter? It’s been ages since you’ve seen me and you act as if you’d rather leave!”  
Gendry choked out a nervous cough, “no, M’lady, I mean, Arya, it’s not that. I just…” He fell silent, searching for suitable words.

  
Arya shook her head and walked towards him, punching him on the arm hard. He pulled back at the sudden contact, before letting out a laugh. When he looked back up at her, it wasn’t Lady Stark standing before him. It was Arry, the childlike, playful and painfully stubborn girl he used to know. The memory of their time together washed over him with warmth, and the awkwardness seemed to dissipate. He saw her with short, messy, brown hair and a dirt-covered face, and for that moment, she was her again.

She looked upon his face, he seemed deep in thought, and she smiled gracefully at him.

  
 _Lady Arya, of House Stark of Winterfell. He would never see her that way, to him, she would always be Arry._

  
He shook the memory from his head and motioned for her to crawl back into bed. They lay side by side, occasionally mumbling things to each other, before falling into deep slumber.


End file.
